


The fog of war

by JediBatman



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Established Relationship, F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 12:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15267555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediBatman/pseuds/JediBatman
Summary: While 007 is confined to a desk job due to serious injuries in one of his assignements, an unknown group of assasins targets high ranking members of the British Secret Service.007 and his new boss, the beautiful and musterious Gloria Green will have to discover who the perpetrators are and stop them before they cause further damage.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am a huge fan of 007. He is the man! He is my favourite movie hero. And more than that... he is a source of inspiration for me in so many things such as personal courage, persistence till the end, inventiveness, style, and most of it... true manhood.
> 
> This story is a letter of respet, admiration to the man, the myth, the legend... Bond, James Bond! 
> 
> It will have multiple chapters and it will be long and serialised. Hopefully it will reach the one million word mark one day. (I am not planning to end it soon!)

Sometimes everything goes according to plan. But usually something, somewhere will go wrong. 

Entering his house had been according to plan. So had been kidnapping him, putting him in the trunk of his own car with his arms and legs tied and his mouth shut with duct tape. So had been murdering him with a syringe full of poison. 

The police vehicles with the police officers hadn't been part of the plan though. 

The kidnapper had chosen that particular area in England to hide the car and the corpse because crime rates were extremely low and there were many abandoned warehouses in the area. In one of them, a stolen motorcycle was waiting. 

It was simply bad luck, something the kidnapper couldn't anticipate. A recently divorced father who had just lost custody of his young daughter had kidnapped her from school. The police had started a manhunt to find him in that particular area, meaning they searched all passing cars and opened their trunks. 

Since all main roads were under surveillance, the kidnapper decided to use a small dirt road to reach the warehouse. Perhaps the police hadn't put a roadblock there. 

But the kidnapper was wrong. Two police vehicles and four female police officers were waiting. They waved him to stop. Soon they would open the trunk and find the corpse. Unless...

The kidnapper stopped the car and got out of it. The car was six meters away from the place it should be. 

“You should have stopped closer!” one of the policewomen said.

“I am sorry. I saw your signal and thought I should stop and get out of the car immediately.”

Two of the policewomen were in a distance with their hands close to their side-arms. The third one approached from the kidnapper's right touching her pistol. The fourth one approached slightly from the kidnapper's left. The kidnapper raised the hands to show there were no weapons carried.

As soon as the fourth policewoman approached to a distance of one meter, the kidnapper kicked her between the legs and closed the distance between the two of them believing the other three would hesitate to shoot and hit their colleague. Then the kidnapper used both hands to hit and grab the policewoman's right hand and turned her around. In a fluid motion, the kidnapper's right hand grabbed the policewoman's side-arm. Two seconds later, the kidnapper shot the policewoman to the right, killing her. 

The other two police officers had drawn their weapons and ducked for cover. The kidnapper used the hostage policewoman as a human shield, waited till one of them raised her head and pulled the trigger. The policewoman died.

Still using the policewoman as a human shield, the kidnapper circled the car where the last policewoman was covered. She hadn't moved after her colleague had been shot, probably due to fear. The kidnapper shot her three times, killing her. Then he pushed the hostage and ordered her to start walking. As soon as the policewoman was five meters away, the kidnapper pulled the trigger.

There was no time to lose. The kidnapper entered the car and rushed to the abandoner warehouse. Ten minutes later the kidnapper was speeding to the main highway on a motorcycle.


	2. Friendly competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 007 enters MI-S headquarters and heads for the shooting range. So does his boss Gloria Green. They have a friendly competition.

James Bond's grey Aston Martin entered the secret underground garage of MI-S headquarters. A locked door with iron grilles blocked his entrance. 

“Good morning Mr. Bond”, a female voice announced. “Please put your left index finger to the device.”

“Will you invite me home for dinner if I do so?” he asked in a playful voice.

“No, but I will report you to M if you don't”, she said.

"Grow up 007", he told himself. He put his left index finger to the red eye of the authentication device. The door opened.

Bond parked his car, locked the door, and headed to the shooting-range for his daily target practice. After an obligatory iris scan the automated door to the range opened.

Bond used his right index finger to open the automated fingerprint lock of an ammo cache. He selected 9 millimetre bullets for his side-arm and empty clips. As his usual routine was, he would fire five clips with eight bullets each.

The voice of high heel shoes reached his ears. “Good morning M”, he said without looking up.

“Good morning 007”, M replied with a smile. “Do you feel competitive today?”

“I am always competitive M”, he replied with his own smile, looking at her beautiful dark blue eyes. “And I never quit”, he added.

“I like competing with you 007. You never play to lose. Even against your boss.” 007 smiled.

Gloria Green was a very attractive brunette in her early forties. She commanded MI-S, a new branch of British Secret Services. Gloria was tall, with piercing eyes and a beautiful face. She was also an expert in the martial art of krav maga and an excellent shooter with a pistol and a rifle. 

When his old boss Gareth Malory had resigned the service, Bond had transferred to MI-S. There had been two reasons for that. The first one had been because Bond had been seriously during a mission, and he was still unfit for field duty. The second one had been some suspicions Mallory had for the beautiful Gloria.

Bond enjoyed competing with his boss in the shooting-range. He was more accurate and more focused when he tried to best her than when he was alone. Nevertheless, she usually had a higher score than him. He didn't mind though. It's not dishonourable when you do your best and lose by someone better than you. It is only dishonourable when you don't do your best and yet expect to win. 

“Forty bullets, five human sized paper targets thirty meters away, eight bullets against each target, and the timer is to three minutes. Head shots count for four points, other body parts for one. We assume the targets are enemies with bulletproof vests.”

“It's fine with me M.”

“The usual drill 007. The loser gathers the spent cartridges, deposits them, puts everything back in place and makes the winner coffee.”

“OK M.” Both put earplugs in their ears.

At M's signal both she and 007 drew their side-arms and fired. Bond tried really hard to aim for the head, a challenging task with a pistol when the enemy is thirty meters away. His first shots were not so accurate, but he soon improved.

Bond fired his last bullet the exact moment the timer stopped.

“OK 007, let's see what we did.” James Bond pressed some buttons and all ten targets came closer. He picked up a marker and started counting bullet holes and the appropriate points. 

“The best score is forty head shots or 160 points. You have 135. Great! And all five targets have head shots.”

“I would have killed them all.”

“Yes, if they stayed like statues for three minutes”, she replied. “OK, my score is... 150.”

“What can I say M. You are really good. I admit I lost today. I improve though but if I had been alone I would have barely scored 120.”

“You are the only person I wouldn't mind losing from 007. I only accept defeat from people with balls.”

“That's a real compliment M. How would you like your coffee?”

“Double espresso, no sugar. And I want you in my office with the coffee in exactly forty minutes. I have a mission for you.”

“At your orders M.”

 

After Bond finished with the shooting-range, he went to his office. He turned the computer on and scanned the news.

“Four police officers murdered in...”. The news caught Bond's attention. Then the phone rang.

“Hello, is Mr. Guinness here?” Despite the voice distortion software, Bond immediately recognised Gareth Malory, his former boss. “Mr. Guinness” was a code word for something serious.

“There is no Mr. Guinness here, sir. Are you sure you have the right number?” It was Bond's confirmation question. Was it really a serious problem?

“I am looking for Alec Guinness, Universal Life Insurance. Did I get the wrong number?”, the voice continued. Yes, it is serious. You have confirmation now.

“Sorry sir. You are wrong. This is Universal Exports.”

“Sorry. Have a nice day.” The line went dead.

Malory had told Bond he would only contact him in case of an emergency, and he should not tell anyone about their communication. 

In any case, he should go to M, who was expecting him in a few minutes. He made two double espressos without sugar from the coffee machine in his office and went to her office.


End file.
